yalandarose

March 4, 2013

Seeing Halos

Filed under: children — Tags: , , , — yalandarose @ 9:24 pm

My daughter is a part-time angel who’s off on weekends.

September 12, 2012

When Push Comes to Shove

Filed under: children, Christianity, Faith, God's Love — Tags: , , — yalandarose @ 3:29 pm

She had every reason to be confused, even hurt.  My daughter wasn’t doing anything wrong. She hadn’t pitched a fit or thrown a tantrum.  She was actually behaving extremely well. But I could tell by her eyes  what her mouth hadn’t formed the words to say, Why did I push her?

Shoved more like it, when she didn’t do anything to deserve it. No explanation, no warning, just a push causing her to stumble forward.

No, I hadn’t blown my top, I wasn’t in a hurry, so why did I seemingly punish her with no provocation, her eyes kept asking me.

To protect her.

One thing I do know about my daughter is her irrational fear of bugs and all things creepy crawly. One thing she was not aware of, was that there was a huge one on the other side of the door big enough to induce shock.

Since I was ahead of her, I was aware of the critter that would have frozen my daughter in her tracks preventing her from taking another step. So I gave her a swift push.

Though she stumbled, she landed safely. It was at the safety of our vehicle that I addressed the confusion in her eyes and tended to her bruised  – ego.

While not getting too descriptive, I informed her of the bug that was now behind her, and she then understood that the push was to protect her.

September 4, 2012

Nothing but the truth

Filed under: child abuse, children, Christianity — Tags: , , — yalandarose @ 5:59 pm

I know, I know. It’s been awhile.

If I was trying to gain new readers and followers, I failed to follow blog marketing basics of posting regularly and predictably.

Like many bloggers (I know because I’ve read enough), my day became brighter by the lights of my status updates:  likes, followers, and the apparently once-in-a lifetime – re-blog notifications. Logging in to a dark homepage was discouraging and well, dark.  My status headlights had become an obsession, and I was driven to increase my traffic.

My blog had slowly evolved to posting about God’s Word to revolving around me.

To increase my views, I did everything short of posting, “Look at me, look at me, look at me!”

Until God Made me look at this – a nocturnal photo of 2 young siblings obviously homeless and abandoned. The youngest child probable age 2 had made his bed in his older brother’s lap probable age 4, as the oldest clutched to a probable bag of their belongings –  a bag small enough to throw away.

I thought of posting the photo on this post to justify the length of my absence by the speed in which my heart broke.  However, those kids had been exploited enough.

Though a picture is worth a thousand words, the heart-breaking photo I viewed recently on another blog post required only a couple to get my attention – stay focused – on God’s true religion.

“religion pure and undefiled with the God and Father is this, to look after orphans and widows in their tribulation — unspotted to keep himself from the world.”  James 1:27

People spend their whole lives looking for the “truth” when it’s in the first chapter of a book named James. If only those people knew, they could quit looking for the “truth” and start looking after children and elderly who are hungry, homeless, neglected, abused and scared.

That one look made even my best day for page views mean nothing, especially when I know nothing else about the fate of those kids.

Organizations ask us to save the world, the animals, and even the economy. However, God Requires us to save the vulnerable.

Act like a child to get near to God (Matthew 19:14). Give when the adult in us says don’t share. Forgive, when the adult in us says to hold grudges. Love when the adult in us says it’s easier to hate.

Quit searching the world over for the truth, when the truth may be at your doorstep, backyard or next door.

July 26, 2012

I Hate Traffic

Filed under: children — Tags: , , — yalandarose @ 2:03 am

 

 

Car stuck in rush-hour traffic?

A child is suffering in human trafficking.

 

 

 

June 25, 2012

Collective Prayer

Filed under: child abuse, children, God's Love — Tags: , , — yalandarose @ 1:36 pm

Please pray for the 10-year old malnourished girl locked in the closet.  May God Have Mercy on her.

http://news.yahoo.com/police-rescue-malnourished-girl-closet-kansas-city-161117342–abc-news-topstories.html

May 17, 2011

Can Chuck E. Have Kids Cheesing All the Way to the Casino?

Filed under: children — Tags: , , , — yalandarose @ 2:46 pm

I just read an article that a mother is suing Chuck E. Cheese for $5 million because she believes that the company replaced many of their arcades with casino-inspired games that could potentially lead children to have gambling addictions later in life. 

If you’ve been to Chuck E. Cheese lately, you can’t deny that most of the games do look eerily similar to miniature gaming devices. However, I think the games speak volumes of the inspiration of the game designers in their free time and how their jobs got easier designing the gaming replicas.

The games have been ergonomically re-designed to entertain our fat, lazy kids without requiring much effort.  I remember when Chuck E. Cheese was Showbiz, there were a lot more interactive games that required the player to do more than spin a wheel or pull a lever.  Even if it was just running from that scary gorilla!  Now the only object of most of the games I see on the floor merely involve touching screens or lots of wrist flicking with the spin the wheel and slot machines.  Instead of suing, maybe the mother can reach a settlement that requires Chuck E. Cheese to include a disclaimer on their games that reads: “excessive playing could lead to carpal tunnel syndrome, and if you’re really weak-minded, a destructive gambling habit later in life.”

May 13, 2011

Birthday Parties Are No Piece of Cake!

Filed under: children — Tags: , , — yalandarose @ 6:42 pm

Out of bed on a Saturday morning, I grabbed my chore list planned on a not-much-happening Friday night.  Clean my car, mop my floors, run some errands.  What I hadn’t planned, but now needed to address, was learning the complicated politics of children’s birthday parties.

The sheer amount of papers my child brings home from school has my Mazda’s floorboards littered like a big city sidewalk.  While purging my car of paper, stickers and melted candies, I came across an invitation-sized envelope labeled with my daughter’s name.

“Guess who’s turning 6?” It read with enough details about where Jeremy lived, how to reach him and what he liked that I could have stolen his identity, but I still didn’t have a clue.  Jeremy –  a boy?  I wasn’t even aware that my preschool daughter even had boy – friends?

“Hi.” I introduced myself awkwardly to Jeremy’s dad on the phone as if we had just started going steady. “My daughter was invited to your son’s birthday party this afternoon.  It’s a long, messy story, but I just found about the party today…is it too late?”

“No, we’d love to have you, come join the fun!” Why did I have the feeling that his response should have been followed by a big fat NOT!

My daughter’s only 4, so my experience is minimal in planning and attending kids’ birthday parties, and because she wasn’t blessed with a fraternal twin brother, I have zero experience in picking out boy items. It seems easy enough on the surface.  If girls like princesses, shouldn’t boys like princes?  Hmm, maybe I should think this through.  Oh well, I’ll have to contemplate this later, I still have 2 more items on my list.

Three hours later and an hour before the “fun” starts, I’m studying the toys on the shelves like the names on a memorial wall.  A toy I would have deemed appropriate for a 6-year-old boy wasn’t among those listed. I still lacked peace of mind.

Thirty minutes to fun time, I grabbed what I thought was an age-appropriate gift -an educational card game with a squishy toy on top. Well, let’s just hope shopping for the gift bag is going to be easier.

It was. A dark blue tote that screamed ‘energetic big boy’ with the words “YOU ROCK!” emblazoned across.  I completed the look with black and gray tissue paper to create the smoky effect similar to when rockers appear on stage.

In the parking lot of Party Central, I started doubting my gift. I really didn’t know what Jeremy liked or what he even looked like, so I opted not to put our names on the gift tag. Besides, I reasoned, with all the other gifts he was sure to get, mine would get lost in the shuffle anyway.

“For the birthday boy!” I announced handing the bag over like a bottle of wine at a dinner party to whom I assumed was Jeremy’s dad.

“Wow! What an awesome bag!  Honey, look at this!”  Jeremy’s dad said, summoning over his wife.

“Oh wow! Jeremy’s going to love this!” Jeremy’s mom agreed placing it in front of the other gifts.

Uh-oh.  There goes my logic of the crappy gift getting lost in the shuffle. I’m going to pay more for this gift than I did in the store.

After the games, cake, and candles, it was now time for Jeremy to cover the floor with wrapping paper and empty gift bags.

Thanks to my ego-boosting YOU ROCK bag complete with the smoky effect, I lowered my head as he raised my gift up for the birthday guests to see.

“Daddy, what is it?” Jeremy said as if he had just found a rusty doodad in the backyard.

It’s a…I don’t know son.” Jeremy’s dad attempted to answer as he passed the gift to his wife.

“Well, it’s a…um…”Jeremy’s mom said looking at me, hoping I would finish her sentence. I remained silent as I realized the squishy toy on top made the gift look like a plaything fit for Fido or Spot. Now, all the parents were looking and inwardly wondering how much I paid for the gift. I actually paid $15, but it was clear that it was $14 too much.

Jeremy’s mom handed the gift back to her husband in an impromptu game of Hot Potato, who for a second almost forgot I was standing there because he looked like he wanted to throw the rusty doodad back in the far away backyard.

Jeremy, with his 6-year-old attention span, was now oohing and ahhing over the other gifts he got while his parents remained noticeably silent. No one bothered to break the ice that abruptly chilled the leased party room, so I knew that the other parents were making mental notes to themselves as well.

I hid behind a moon bouncer and pretended to be busy texting on my phone.  I’m an adult playing with imaginary friends.  When this party’s over, I’m going to need therapy.

April 26, 2011

Need to PP?

Filed under: children — Tags: , , — yalandarose @ 7:58 pm

Now that Easter has passed, this holiday was a reminder to not let my parental duties cloud my paternal instincts.  I told myself I wouldn’t do it.  I refused to take any part of it – the marketing hype of the holiday.  But no one told me that the peer pressure of the teens grows into parental pressure as an adult.  I don’t have to look good…but my child does and that makes me look good.  That darn vicious circle of life.  I wanted my daughter to look the best…ever…

It started off innocently enough.  I was in the mall all holiday weekend – walking for my health however, not in haste as a last minute shopper scavenger gleaning the racks for what was left or picked over. But then it hit me.

My daughter is going to be around kids in church and playing with kids after church all Easter daylong in their Sunday and playtime best.  I want her to look the best in the front pew of the church and in the front yard.  So that Saturday, after Good Friday, and before Sunrise Service, I skipped the mall walk and ran from store to store as yet another dangerous shopper scavenger.  (If we were on the endangered list, the world would be a better place). I was flooded with adrenaline that morning as I had time to beat.  That afternoon, I was filled with depression as now time was beating the hope out of me. Acceptance set in for a while as I realized I may not find THE DRESS and we may have to glean the racks of her closet sifting through outgrown clothes like weeds.  My gas tank was now half full and the clothes racks were now half empty. But then –  joy came that evening when I found the cutest little dress in her size! 

My daughter, a tot, had been in tow throughout the entire shopping/scavenging experience – my babysitter is a shopper scavenger too (speaking of that endangered list, better place idea).  She was tired and hungry for food that she could eat in a chair and not in her carseat by the time we found THE ONE.  She no doubt has it drilled in her mind that this is how we’re supposed to shop, so I may have created another shoppper scavenger generation as she now has step by step instructions.

Easter morning, my daughter announces that she’s sick.  Oh well, maybe this new dress will make you feel better, I think.  Instead of standing in the mirror, she goes and lies down.  I’m annoyed because she just wrinkled her dress.  We make it to church.  We had to move from one of the front pews to the back out of sight because she was whining that she was uncomfortable.  Who’s going to see her dress?  Didn’t she get the memo that kids are to be seen and not heard?

We finally make it home.  I grab my phone for pictures to mass broadcast to the family, but she’s not interested in posing in her new dress because a few minutes later, she was puking all over it.  I had no idea she was really sick!  Well, at least the dress is washable.

Had I not turned from a parent to a scavenger, I would have put her to bed that morning instead of becoming a child exploiter in in church in front of God and my pastor.  She’s fine now, but it took a clothes washing and a furniture scrubbing to be reminded that holidays are just another day of the week.

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